Yu Wang smiled. “A chance meeting is better than a planned one. It’s nearly noon—why not find a restaurant? My treat.”
Shen Qi slowly loosened his grip on his blade with a deep breath. “I am carrying out an imperial order. I cannot afford delays. Wangye, please carry on.”
“No matter how dedicated you are, you still need to eat. Besides, I know a thing or two about the case you’re investigating. I might have some useful information for you.”
Yu Wang had made his intentions clear—this was an inescapable banquet, whether Shen Qi wanted to attend or not. He wasn’t afraid of being alone with Yu Wang. He was only afraid of losing control and attacking him recklessly.
The attack would come, sooner or later. But he couldn’t act rashly. He specialized in using others as a blade; he couldn’t afford to lose his composure now.
Shen Qi curled his lips into a cold smile. “Since Wangye insists, this humble official shall humbly accept.”
Despite calling it a restaurant, Yu Wang had instead chosen a private estate. The chef team was hired at a hefty price, and the meal was served on a lakeside terrace. There was no song or dance to entertain, only a young and handsome Taoist seated beneath a pine tree in the distance, plucking the strings of a guqin—turning decadent indulgence into an act of refined elegance.
After the customary toast to the host, Shen Qi got straight to the point. “Wangye mentioned information regarding the case. I would be grateful for your insight.”
Yu Wang sipped his wine lazily. “There’s a grove near the Eastern Market where a few yew trees were planted overnight. If you clear away the fallen leaves and weeds, you’ll still find traces of hastily disturbed soil. The three children of the Xin family were lured there by a candied haw vendor, who told them that someone was feeding horses with yew branches, saying the animals liked them. As children do, they imitated what they saw and plucked the branches that had been pulled down. Later, they took them back to their stable. That’s all the information I have for now. Any guesses as to who the culprit is?”
He had asked about the assassination attempt but received an answer regarding the horseback accident instead. His words were off-topic yet precisely on point.
Shen Qi remained expressionless. “The Ministry of Justice has already ruled Commandant Xin’s fall as an accident. If Wangye wishes to challenge their ruling, you should raise the matter with Lord Wang. I am not responsible for that case, so speaking to me is as useful as playing a tune to a cow.”
Yu Wang laughed heartily and raised his cup in a mock toast. “Regardless, I do admire your skills, Shen Tongzhi.”
His words carried an unspoken meaning—he didn’t share the same admiration for Shen Qi’s character.
Oh? And what of himself? Did he think brute force was somehow nobler than cunning?
Shen Qi raised his cup in return. “Likewise.”
The two men, both harboring their own agendas, downed their wine.
As Yu Wang set down his cup, the servant girls stepped forward to serve the dishes. One young and beautiful maid, as she arranged the plates, deliberately brushed her delicate fingers along Shen Qi’s thigh, tracing up from his knee toward his inner thigh.
Shen Qi’s hand shifted abruptly, knocking over a dish of sauce meant for the sashimi. The dark stain spread across the maid’s dress as he reprimanded her coldly, “How dare you serve guests in soiled clothing? Leave at once and change. You are not needed here.”
The maid blushed in humiliation and quickly retreated with a deep bow.
Yu Wang observed coldly and smirked. “That maid was indeed clumsy, but Shen Tongzhi, you needn’t be so harsh.”
Shen Qi’s expression remained indifferent. “I’m just a crude man, nothing like Wangye, who cherishes beauty. Forgive me if I’ve amused you.”
Yu Wang chuckled. “Not at all. If anyone is truly tender toward beauty, it is my imperial brother. And in his eyes, there is only one beauty worth cherishing—he has gone to great lengths for that one. I could never compare.”
Shen Qi hadn’t yet deciphered the underlying meaning of those words, so he kept silent, waiting for Yu Wang to lay his cards on the table.
But Yu Wang changed the subject. “I heard that Censor Su went missing in Shaanxi?”
Nine days had passed since the disappearance, and only three days ago had the Embroidered Uniform Guard’s secret report reached the capital. The emperor had not made this public—so how had Yu Wang found out? Could one of the accompanying Embroidered Uniform Guard be his spy?
Shen Qi found it unlikely. The escort list had been scrutinized twice by both him and the emperor. If someone had infiltrated even that, then their influence within the court and beyond was terrifyingly vast. Yu Wang, confined in the capital under the emperor’s watchful eye, wouldn’t have managed such a feat.
Perhaps he had picked up clues from the unusual mobilization of the Embroidered Uniform Guard—or perhaps he had tricked the information out of the Crown Prince.
But what did the safety of Qinghe have to do with Zhu Xujing?
Shen Qi’s face remained expressionless. “This humble officer is unaware of matters concerning external officials. The court has issued no relevant notices.”
Yu Wang mocked, “You have quite a close relationship with Censor Su, don’t you? Back when you were gravely injured and bedridden, wasn’t he the one who cared for you night and day? And now, you claim you ‘knew nothing’? Isn’t that a bit too cold and heartless? Shen Qilang, oh Shen Qilang—when someone goes too far pretending, there’s always something fishy. Do you need me to teach you the lesson of ‘the more you try to cover up, the more it shows’?”
Shen Qi replied coldly, “Then surely, Wangye also needs no reminder from me about the saying: ‘Paper can’t wrap fire.’”
Yu Wang waved his hand to dismiss all the attendants at the banquet, then rose and slowly approached step by step. “I know what you’re suspicious of,” he said, “but it’s a pity—you were aiming at the wrong target from the start. What kind of outstanding man needs the Emperor himself to personally crown him? And what kind of high minister, when he disappears for just a few days, can unsettle the Emperor so deeply that even the elite imperial troops are thrown into turmoil? Five thousand elite soldiers—enough to fight that madman Liao in Henan all over again! A forced march across Shaanxi, endless supplies wasted—and even knowing the court officials would condemn him once the truth comes to light, even if it tarnishes the Emperor’s holy name, all of it just for one Su Qinghe—tell me, has my royal brother gone mad?”
With every word Yu Wang said, Shen Qi clenched his molars tighter. Every syllable was like a sharp blade driven into his chest, cruelly reminding him what kind of man he was up against in the fight for the one he loved—someone exalted beyond measure, someone who held the power of life and death over the entire world. That man didn’t even need to lift a finger—just a single glance, and he could crush Shen Qi into dust, leaving him broken like an ant beneath a boot.
With a status that lofty, was there anyone in the world he couldn’t have?
Cherishing beauty was the Emperor’s grace. Riches and honors were the Emperor’s gifts. Being forgiven for crimes was the Emperor’s mercy. And now, sending troops across the land to save one person—naturally, that too was the Emperor’s boundless kindness.
And what was Shen Qi? Without a single nod from the Emperor, he couldn’t even take half a step beyond the city gates!
“It’s a pity,” Yu Wang said thoughtfully, “people like you and me—no matter how mad we want to go, we don’t even have the freedom to go mad. Without the Emperor’s approval, we can’t even leave the city.” He sighed, “So, what’s the difference between you and me and the prisoners in the imperial prison? We can eat better and wear better clothes, but we still have no freedom.”
Shen Qi sneered, “If that’s how Wangye sees it, then no one in this world has freedom, except the one who sits atop all others.”
“But at least commoners can pursue the ones they love freely. Whether they succeed or not, they don’t have to worry about losing their heads. Can you?” Yu Wang leaned close and whispered in his ear, “Would you dare stand before my royal brother and boldly declare, ‘Su Qinghe is mine. Stay away from him’?”
Shen Qi’s fingers twitched involuntarily before he gripped the hem of his robe tightly.
“Of course you wouldn’t dare. If it were me, I wouldn’t dare either,” Yu Wang sighed. “So what if you’re hostile toward me? In my royal brother’s eyes, you and I are both jokes.
“He’s only just gotten what he wanted, but for appearances’ sake, he had to demote the man and send him away. He hasn’t even had time to deal with us yet. Once he gets Su Qinghe back and transfers him back to the capital, do you really think you’ll still have a chance? When that time comes, the hungry tiger will guard its prey—you won’t even be able to catch a glimpse of him, let alone try to win him over. Wake up, Shen Qilang. Forget about having him to yourself. In the future, even seeing him in private will be nearly impossible for you.”
Shen Qi’s eyes flashed with fury—part shock, part grim expectation. His voice turned hoarse and frightening: “‘Gotten what he wanted’—what do you mean by that!?”
Yu Wang chuckled, his expression tinged with pity, as if saying, We’re all men here. Do I really need to spell it out?
Shen Qi’s face remained expressionless, but it was as if countless swords and blades danced beneath his skin. Suddenly, all the light and shadow faded from his eyes, leaving behind only a bleak emptiness. “He hasn’t even been found. What future are you talking about?”
But Yu Wang wasn’t concerned about that. He picked up the wine pot on the table and filled Shen Qi’s cup. “I’m not too worried about that. Censor Su is clever and lucky by nature. Even when he faced hundreds of ruthless jail-breakers in Yanan City, he still came out unscathed. A few Tartar cavalry? He won’t be tripped up by something like that.”
“Oh, right—there was an assassin named Wu Ming, who he claimed as a concubine. Did he accompany him on this trip to Shaanxi?”
“What concubine? Just some scoundrel from jianghu,” Shen Qi said mockingly. “If Wangye wants to believe such nonsense, that’s your business. No need to say it aloud and make a fool of yourself.”
But Yu Wang didn’t get angry. He nodded calmly. “So he did go. I’ve fought that assassin before—I know his strength. If he’s protecting Su Qinghe with all he’s got, then nothing will happen.”
Seeing his certainty, Shen Qi fell silent and said nothing more.
Yu Wang patted him on the shoulder, speaking meaningfully: “When the snipe and clam fight, the fisherman profits. As the snipe, let me tell you something sincerely—I really do love Qinghe dearly. The day before he left the capital, I picked him up from the gates of your residence. I just wanted to have a proper conversation and say goodbye, but then I discovered… his private affair with my royal brother—”
Under his palm, Shen Qi’s shoulder tensed, like he might explode into violence at any moment. But in the end, he restrained himself.
“You didn’t see how he defended my brother. Said His Majesty treated him with utmost kindness and benevolence; said he felt nothing but gratitude, no resentment at all; swore their relationship was pure and upright, that they’d never overstepped a single boundary. That kind of righteous denial, born from emotional shame… it nearly blew my heart to pieces.”
“Never overstepped?” Yu Wang sneered. “Just look at how my royal brother behaves—like a withered tree blooming in spring. Frankly, I don’t believe it at all.”
Shen Qi stared at him like a vicious wolf, his voice hoarse as he asked, “And after you finished talking, what kind of grievance did you make him suffer?”
Yu Wang gazed at the water beyond the terrace, his expression complicated, a faint hint of guilt surfacing in his eyes. “I…”
I never let anyone suffer grievances in my bed. Not only did I not make him serve me, but I even served him instead. I gave him a night of unparalleled pleasure.
For some reason, when he recalled the way Su Yan had looked at him, all those frivolous words got stuck in his throat.
He opened his mouth and closed it again. Opened it, closed it. In the end, he only managed to say, “I… skipped his dinner.”
For an instant, Shen Qi looked as if he was about to kill someone—Yu Wang’s demeanor and those words were the most cryptic confession in the world, but Shen Qi understood them effortlessly.
He didn’t even bother to draw his blade. Instead, he poured all his strength into a single palm strike.
Yu Wang was standing too close to dodge, and he didn’t intend to. He met Shen Qi’s palm head-on.
Their powerful internal energies collided violently, sending the table on the terrace flying. Wine and dishes scattered all over the floor, and the residual force rippled outward, stirring up waves on the water like a raging storm, rolling up frothy whitecaps.
From the distant corridor, a maid screamed. Guards rushed over, weapons drawn.
Shen Qi paid no heed and struck at Yu Wang three more times in quick succession—no techniques, no footwork, just sheer fury and raw internal energy clashing head-on.
His insides quaked under the other party’s overwhelming force, blood trickling from the corner of his lips.
Yu Wang hadn’t used his full strength, nor did he protect himself with internal energy. A faint taste of blood rose in his throat—he needed this pain to suppress the guilt pressing down on his heart.
The guards stormed onto the terrace, surrounding Shen Qi with gleaming blades. He stood with his hands lowered, eyes red, staring daggers at Yu Wang.
Yu Wang coughed up the blood caught in his throat, his chest loosening slightly. He waved a hand, his voice weary. “Stand down.”
The guards hesitated.
Yu Wang raised his voice. “I said, stand down!”
Reluctantly, they withdrew a few paces, still tense and watchful.
Shen Qi remained motionless. Yu Wang sighed. “At least it’s all out in the open now. I’ll say it again—when the snipe and clam struggle, the fisherman profits. But if the fisherman casts a net, neither of us will escape. Think it over.”
He took a few steps away, then stopped. “The assassination attempt in the Eastern Palace—it’s an opportunity.” With that, he strode off.
The royal guards cast uncertain glances between Shen Qi and Yu Wang’s retreating figure before ultimately following their master.
Shen Qi, his robes stained with wine, stood alone on the empty terrace, turning to look at the lake.
The wind left no trace; the surface of the water had already settled, as if no disturbance had ever occurred.
His heart was choked with frustration, tangled with a thousand chaotic thoughts. At this moment, all he wanted was to be in front of Su Yan, to look at him properly, to hold him tightly.
They were separated by a thousand miles, cut off from all communication. Each bore so many burdens, so many regrets, so much unwillingness, so much dissatisfaction.
How could they resolve this? How could they reconcile?
When I wish to speak, words fail me; if not you, then who could understand?
Endless yearning, yet when shall we raise our cups together again?
